Eve Arising
by Oldtime Scribe
Summary: Eleven years have passed since the destruction of The Factory. STN-J is once again firmly under the control of Solomon. But change is on the wind, and the past will reach out to touch the future... This is my first fanfic in a couple of decades, so enjoy! No pairings, as I like to keep the good stuff for the right time. Rated M due to the kind of story it is.


Worthless scum. Weaklings. Fools who had no idea, no _clue_. Money is power? A name? A job title? That wasn't _power_. Not _true_ power. Not the kind of power _he_ had. Power that was his, all his, power that no over bred boss or backstabbing woman or crooked company could ever take away! But they were going to learn; oh yes, they were going to-!

Damn. There _was_ someone following him. Youngish woman. Blonde. Laughing blue eyes noticeably not smiling, even though she flitted from storefront to storefront like a nitwit...and managed to stay in sight.

The scruffy man thrust his fists deeper into his jacket; he didn't dare deal with this here. Too public. Too exposed. Those he knew with the power always warned him to be discreet. There were hunters out there. Devils who hunted them. Maybe her? Hardly. Hunters were dangerous. But maybe a tracker...? Whatever. She was going to go away. He'd see to it...

"Dojima, are you paying attention?" a voice rattled in Yurika Dojima's ear bud. She skipped to another window to shop, grinning at the tacky nightwear being shown.

"Hai, hai, he's half a block ahead. Looks like he's getting twitchy. He's been looking this way more and more. So what's the wager, oh Keyboard Wizard? Is he a runner, or does he plan to lead me off to do me in?"

Micheal Lee's digitized voice snorted "This one isn't smart enough to run for it. Sakaki and Kamiko are paralleling you, so you're covered. Karasuma-sama says to be careful."

Dojima snorted as Miho's voice came from the background, snarling at Micheal once again for the 'sama' that made her feel old. It had been three years since her powers finally failed...and she moved into Chief Kosaka's shoes as he moved up. Very unusual move, to allow a Witch, even a powerless one, into a position of authority, but Miho Karasuma had earned it.

_Whether she wanted it or not_, Dojima thought. _She never wanted to give up hunting for-_

Ahead, the man she had been following suddenly moved off, away from the crowds. "Looks like he's angling to pass through the warehouse district, headed towards the shore," Dojima mumbled into her throat mike, increasing her pace a bit. She was made, so no reason not to be a little more up front about it. Her gloved hand brushed her waist, double checking the location of her all too deadly weapon.

The man moved slightly faster. He knew she was following him, and the ditzy act had fallen from her like a dream. She moved with purpose now, not caring he knew. More than anything he wanted to turn and face her, to make her _pay_ for this! Too many cameras here, though. Too many witnesses. Just a few more blocks, though, and she would be on -his- turf...and then...

Perched on a sign support, an observer watched the STN-J work, a shadow among shadows. Third story heights, particularly on the _side_ of a building, were not the usual hang outs for not-so-young-as-people-thought girls. She relished them. Her feet were probably cold from the prolonged

contact with metal, but she'd run barefoot as long as she could remember, so it was hardly noticed. No expression touched her face as she watched the hunters corner their prey. Almost as if she had seen this too many times before...

The hunted was getting twitchy. It was taking too long to get to his chosen killing ground, and his tail was too confident. Things were getting dirtier, less populous, but he wanted to get to his place, his rules, his-

A shadow detached itself from the night, taking up position in front of him. Long dark coat, just like his pursuer. _Screw it_! Power roared out of him, enough to shred that shadow... Who didn't move. Just as the power wave reached it, the shimmering puddle at the shadow's feet quivered and leapt upward, intercepting the blow and dispersing it with a flare of bluish light.

The hunted fell back a step in shock. No one told him that _hunters_ had power, too! Shock turned to rage in a heartbeat; there were traitors to the power out there! Traitors who would try and block him from his rightful place. Who would shield the worms with what they should rule with...!

"Tanaka! It's over!" Dojima's voice was hard, gaze cold over her steady weapon. "Surrender and live!" The man called Tanaka clenched his fists and bellowed defiance at her, and the impact of his Craft was felt even through the wards worked into the coat itself and the more mundane anti ballistic armor lining. Dojima hit the ground at least two meters behind where she'd stood, breath knocked out of her.

Pain lashed his face before he could deliver a second blow. Tanaka spun, crouched and ready. The shadow was still where it stood, but one hand was extended to its side. A thin, sparkling 'rope' of what looked like water danced and twisted from its fist, almost as if it were a living thing.

"Last chance. Surrender." The shadow's voice was soft, lyrical, feminine...and colder than the bay was. Tanaka smirked; so the traitor was a girl...one who thought her little water play was impressive. A thought strengthened his defenses, and he dropped to one knee, driving his fingers into the asphalt of the road without obvious effort or injury. Shadow-Girl flicked her arm forward and the rope of water curled through the air like a whip, only to shatter into mist against his ready shields. He watched the shadow yield a step, dropping into a ready crouch. As if it would help. He clenched his fingers in the earth, heaved, and the section of asphalt she stood on flipped Shadow-Girl skyward. A reckless grin twisted his plain face as he heard her cry of surprise. He watched as pools and puddles from the rains rose to her call, forming something akin to a curved slide to catch and slow her. Desperation; there wasn't enough free water to keep her from eating pavement. He watched her trajectory; there would be a fatal _surprise_ waiting for her wh-

The world of the man called Tanaka ended as a high velocity round took him in the side of the head. The body fell sideways, blood and brain matter leaking from the palm sized exit wound. Across the parking lot, Haruto Sakaki lowered the rifle. " Micheal, it's me. Witch is down. Send the cleanup crew. I'm going in to check on the girls."

"Okay."

Shouldering his weapon, Sakaki jogged over to the still prone Dojima. "Are you all right?"

"_Oooowwwww..._" Dojima whined. "Of course I'm fine! I get hit two meters every day. My day isn't _complete_ unless I get tossed like a bowling ball!

Sakaki grinned. "You're fine, Yurika." He extended a hand and helped her to her feet. "Come on, Kamiko got thrown a lot farther."

The two hunters moved away from the prey, avoiding the warped asphalt the witch's attack had left, and began to scour the shadows, looking for their comrade. It took a minute, but finally they located her off to one side, having _almost_ arranged a softer landing in a dumpster. The hunter was barely conscious, scrapes down her arms and one cheek.

"Kamiko-chan, are you all right?" Dojima asked, careful not to grab her friend.

"I really hate witches..." Kamiko muttered.

"Can you move?" Sakaki asked. Kamiko didn't answer; she merely pushed herself upright to a sitting position with a groan and curse. She probed her facial injury, wincing at the knot forming on her cheek.

"At least it's not as bad as last June," Sakaki said with a wry grin. "All three of us were down for almost a month."

She skewered him with a glare. "And just who started the rumor that talking about past hurts make new ones hurt less? I want to kick him in the... Uhm, guys?"

The other two hunters looked where she pointed. By the body of the witch knelt a girl. Coltish, on the razor's edge of puberty. Black leotard and knee length biker tights. Hard, callused bare feet and strong looking calves for one so young. A disturbing familiarity with violent death; neither the pool of blood or gaping hole seemed to bother her in the slightest. One hand caressed the dead witch's hair tenderly...almost with pity. "You were so sick," she said clearly, young voice sad. "So terribly sick. I don't think even Mamma could have saved you." She placed something on the body and stood. Looked directly at the three hunters. Pale, Eurasian features softened with baby fat held sober for a heartbeat, before a smile of pure mischief exploded across her face. Almond shaped greenish gray eyes twinkled with totally inappropriate humor. Pushing her inky black ponytail off her shoulder, she turned and did a little skip-dance. One. Two. Three steps. Crouched and leaped off the ground with a gymnast's grace. She vanished in an odd twisting blur of the world about her, and a soft t_ump_ as the air rushed in to fill the space she had occupied.

"Micheal, are we on camera?" Sakaki snapped.

"Three. Who was that?"

"No idea. Anyone nearby?" Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed both Yurika and Kamiko had drawn their weapons.

"No one we can detect," Micheal's voice was distracted, the clicking of keys audible over the ear-bud. "I've started a database search, but it looks on first pass as if that power is one that isn't in the STN database. Maybe that will change once we have facial ID and get into family trees and rumored seeds, but for now it looks as if we have a new, undocumented witch power to deal with."

"Awakening _that_ young means it's a strong power," Kamiko murmured, brushing her own dark bangs out of her eyes. "And that she has the greatest chance of becoming a dangerous witch. Damn it, I _hate it_ when children are cursed like that."

"Look at this," Dojima said. She had gone to the corpse while they were talking, and was returning with something in her hand. "The kid left some kind of medallion."

"Hold it by the edges, her fingerprints-"

"Might be on it, yes, I know Kamiko-chan! Geez, you'd think I was a rookie or something." she knelt next to Kamiko, the medallion already safely in an evidence bag. "It's kinda heavy. I think it's pewter."

"That's an ohgam wheel around the edge," Kamiko said, almond eyes narrowed. "I've never seen that set of runes used before, though. And is that some kind of bird in the center, instead of the controlling rune?"

Dojima dug into a coat pocket for her communicator and thumbed the call button. "Hey, Micheal! Does this stupid thing still work?"

The voice that came from the comm was dry as dust. "That depends. Do you mean the stupid thing you landed on yet again with your backside," the voice cut off, and was back in their ear-buds. "Or the stupid thing someone keeps sticking my beautifully designed receivers into?"

"You scruffy nerd! When I get back there-!"

"Annnnd checks complete! _Both_ stupid things are fully functional!"

Dojima opened her mouth to respond, but Sakaki's hand on her shoulder stopped her. He just shook his head and nodded at the medallion. She looked distinctly pouty, but angled the camera in the comm at the disc and thumbed the 'send image' button. "Image coming your way. Try not to lose it in your porn collection, hmmm?"

"Ha ha, very funny Dojima-san. Processing underway. Has the clean up crew arrived yet?"

"Just now, Micheal," Sakaki said as van lights approached and stopped short of the scene. He waved at the people getting out, flicking a hand sign for medical attention.

"Don't even _think_ about getting a doctor, Sakaki," Kamiko said brusquely. "I-"

You haven't gotten up since you were thrown, and we both know that isn't like you," he cut her off. "It's either stay down and get checked out and cleared, or Karasuma might put you behind a desk for a month. We can't afford you being grounded for not following procedure."

"_Hai, Oyabun._..." she grumbled.

Sakaki winced. He didn't feel like a leader, even if that was what he was, now. Karasuma was supposed to lead. Amon was supposed to lead...assuming he was even alive. '_Shake it off, Sakaki!_' he berated himself. '_It's been more than ten years, so grow up, grow a pair, and do the job like they trained you to!_' He waited until the doctor was there, then strode over to where Dojima had gone. She stood next to the dead witch, staring at the ground. Sakaki stopped beside her. In the blood pool were the shapes of small feet, and a knee print; beyond the pool the bloody footprints of where the girl had danced until she vanished into thin air.

"It didn't bother her at all Sakaki," Dojima said softly. "Stepping into fresh, warm blood barefooted didn't even phase her. Like she doesn't care about others."

"That isn't a good sign. We need to find this one, and fast." Sakaki's expression hardened, and he thumbed his communicator. "Micheal, as soon as Kamiko is cleared, we'll be headed back. Give Karasuma an update and plan on being in on the briefing."

"Okay."

Dojima fell in beside Sakaki as they strode towards their comrade and the doctor arguing with her. "So how bad a feeling are you getting, all of a sudden?"

"Bad, Yurika."

"Me too."

The ride back to Raven's Flat was atypically silent. Neither Dojima or Sakaki felt like their usual banter, and Kamiko ached too much to be even marginally sociable. The place hadn't changed in the years any of them had known it...maybe a little dirtier around the edges. The hunter's van slowed for the automatic gate, then entered the grounds, bearing right for the underground garage.

Across the street, cool dark eyes watched from the depths of a slightly oversized hoodie. Short strands of coppery hair escaped from the edges of the dark gray hood as a hand came free and reached in to tap the ear-bud nestled in one ear.

"Subjects arrived. Don't do anything more stupid than needed." She tapped off before she could hear the response. Leaning back against a tree, the young girl pulled a small tablet from her kangaroo pocket and began tapping at it with her gloved right hand. The plan was proceeding, even if it was overly flashy and complicated for her tastes. Not to mention more than a little dangerous. But Papa had okayed it, so...

"...And that was when I decided that Tanaka couldn't be taken in safely." Sakaki said. "At that point I deployed my weapon and terminated the threat."

Miho Karasuma leaned back in her chair, a professionally blank expression on her face. She hated things as they were now. Things had much cleaner when the Factory existed, and witches were captured, not killed. _Not_ that she wanted that kind of hideous experimentation to resume. But a nice facility that could hold witches without killing them was so much more civilized than what they were doing. A tone sounded, and she looked down to the screen that was the most visible sign of how deeply the Illuminati-like organization SOLOMON had infiltrated the STN-J.

"Headquarters agrees, so that's the end of that." Karasuma closed the folder before her, then leaned forward to place her elbows on it. "Now, let's talk about the new witch you saw."

The desktop screens filled with stills taken from the video record.

"Simply put, meet Mystery. There is no record of anyone with these powers in any database, modern or past." Micheal Lee's expression was blank as he ran the data. "No record of birth with anything like the footprints left at the scene. No visual match so far from the enhanced images. No DNA sample, so nothing there. She appeared out of nowhere, left her calling card, then returned to the same nowhere."

"What about the ogham disc she left behind?" Kamiko asked, rubbing the snub nose she really wished didn't make her look cute. She was a hunter; 'cute' was for puppies and stupid frilly dresses...

The image came up. "Interesting, actually. The wheel isn't a normal wheel. If you look directly across from one rune, you find the rune that is its exact opposite or canceler. From a craft standpoint, its a symbol of utter neutrality; nothing can be done with it or to it. The symbol in the middle isn't a rune from any discipline known. As near as we can determine, it's a highly stylized symbol of some kind of bird or winged creature. And that is stretching the definition of 'bird' big time. But what it is? No idea. The metal it's made of is unusually pure and consistent. Either it was made over and over until the maker got a perfect dye, or else I would say that it was made with magic. Regular smelting and machining processes just don't make things this good. At least not in a quality that doesn't raise one red flag. Nothing in Solomon's database gives us a clue as to origin."

"So what is it's purpose? "Karasuma asked. "Greeting? Warning? Spelled item for some kind of craft we know nothing about?"

Kamiko stared at the girl's image on her screen. "Could she have been a partner? There to extract Tanaka and we just got there first?"

"_Maybe_ I was there to watch you get your butts bounced," piped a young voice from the shadows. Heads turned, the hunters leaping to their feet. Perched tailor fashioned on a file cabinet sat the girl, chin resting on a fist. She shrugged as they looked at her. "Just saying."

"How did you get in here?!" Karasuma snapped, tapping the lock-down button under her station at the console.

A toothy grin and bouncing dark eyebrows were her only answer. Suddenly she straightened, pointing at Sakaki and Kamiko. "Oh, you are _not_ gonna try _that_ old capture move, are you? I mean, I'd expect that from a Solomonkey, but I'd heard STN-J was better than that." Both hunters froze, and a black brow was angled at Kamiko. "Besides, be _both_ know you're so banged up from that utterly graceless landing that you couldn't catch a cold, so don't embarrass yourself."

Kamiko straightened, her dark eyes narrowed in anger.

"So tell me something, kid." Dojima leaned back against the console, seemingly at ease with the situation. "What do we call you? 'Brat' seems rude, if accurate. 'Hey You!' isn't much better. 'Bloody Toes' is just corny."

The humor dropped as if it had never existed. "You wade through what Solomon does, you get used to it." The girl's eyes were suddenly devoid of sparkle, disturbingly like a hunter's. "Genocide is messy, you know. And don't even try and say you aren't doin-EEEK!"

Columns of water suddenly came rushing into the briefing room, sweeping the intruder from her perch and pinning her to the wall.

"You shouldn't try and play with the big kids," Kamiko said, a smug grin on her face, one hand extended towards the main office...and the discretely hidden tubs of water there.

"Can you hold her?" Karasuma asked. The water crafter nodded. "Haruto, get the tranq gun. Headquarters was monitoring. They want this one taken and held for examination."

"Let me _go_, you creep!" The girl pinned to the wall struggled against the force holding her there. "_Letmegoletmegoletmegoletmego!_" More than one adult winced at the shrillness of her shrieks. "You are so gonna regret messing with me! _I promise!_"

"I'm terrified, witch," Kamiko said in a bored tone.

"What do you think_ you_ are, you big bully!" the girl snarled back. "Nothing but a _dog_ trained to hunt _other_ dogs, that's what _you_ are! _Cowards!_ The lot of you! And as soon as Solomon can, they'll put a bullet in all of you! Every one of you is a witch! The very thing Solomon kills on a daily basis! _Murderers!_"

"I'm not. I'm just the resident geek." Karasuma reached out and cuffed Micheal on the side of the head. "Ow! What did I say?"

"Get online and arrange transp-."

The audio system in the briefing room began feedback-squealing at full volume. Hands went to ears in pain, and Kamiko's concentration broke. The water trap fell to the floor with a barely audible splash, it's prisoner freed. Fingers in her ears, the girl leaped up, dashed for the opening into the main offices, pausing only long enough to spin and sweep the water crafter's legs out from under her in a graceful, well trained move. Two steps and she leaped forward, vanishing.

"_Someone turn that racket off!_" Karasuma yelled at the top of her lungs. Silence returned in seconds. Dojima raced into the next room, weapon out, Sakaki half a step behind. Karasuma moved to follow, but stopped dead at Micheal's voice.

"You should take a look at this, Boss." She turned back. He was sitting before his terminal, fingers flying and an aggravated frown on his face.

"What's wrong, Micheal?"

"That feedback wasn't due to us," he muttered, dark eyes intense. "Someone found a hole somewhere, and got in far enough to monkey around with the volume controls on the digital recording system. It was too easy to find, so we don't have a full up black hat, but this is way beyond what a script kiddie could put together. Whoever this is, they were listening in while Mystery was here, and caused the feedback to give her a chance to escape."

"Someone's been spying on us?"

"No." He rattled the keys for a few seconds, scratched at his eyebrow, then rattled them some more. "Like I said, this is no black hat. It was too easy to find, and having found it, I've already blocked the ports used from any further activity. That doesn't make it crude, though. This coder is...elegant. Yeah, that's the right word. Not very experienced, but whoever this is has a real talent. More importantly, they also have a very elegant, easily recognizable style. It won't take long to find any other surprises we might have here. But digging out whatever code they ghosted in on us will take a few hours."

"Good, Micheal. Make sure of our security." Karasuma's gaze narrowed. "Something is going on here, and frankly I don't intend to give headquarters any excuse to invade our territory if I can at all help-"

Chaos exploded outside the briefing room.

"_Doji-!_" Sakaki began.

"_BANZAAAIIIIII!_" shrieked a young voice. Cries of surprise. Bodies falling. Water splashing at high velocity. A girlish whoop of delight, followed by 'Solomonkeys!". Karasuma and Micheal dashed for the doorway into the office space. It was quiet for a moment, then Micheal Lee snickered. Sakaki was on his knees, helping Kamiko off of Dojima, who was face down on the floor. All three were soaking wet. Her stylish jacket was pulled up and over her head, binding her arms. Slacks and lacy panties were around her knees. A florescent smiley face sticker had been slapped on her left butt cheek as a final insult. One desk dripped water; whatever had been on it having been swept away and scattered across the office floor, the desk pushed halfway across the room from its former position.

"Is anyone hurt?" Karasuma demanded, her own weapon out as she scanned the area.

"Not yet, but get _off_ me!" Dojima's yelled. "_And if I see so much as one smirk I'll break bones!_"

Micheal turned and headed back into the briefing room. "I'll just make sure we're secure. Set up the security tapes for post event review. Make sure HQ is fully briefed." He shot Karasuma a wicked look as he flicked his eyes to where his comrades were helping Dojima try and reclaim her dignity without getting slapped. "Add more to my scrapbook."

Karasuma pressed her lips together, uncertain if she wanted to snicker with him or bite his head off. A deep breath, and she addressed her team. "Get yourselves sorted out, then we go over what happened. And I want everyone to plan to keep an active watch on any place she could hide in until we figure out the way to keep her out of here. So move."

_Creaaaaak. Creaaaaaak. Creaaaaak. Creaaaaaak._ The rhythmic noise of the swing was soothing to the young girl in the seat. She reached the top of her back-swing and straightened her legs, watching the ground rush towards her, then bend away as she climbed into the blue, blue sky. Her waterfall of wavy blonde hair streamed out behind her like a golden brown cape, then it wrapped around her as she came back down. A bench was situated nearby to permit guardians to watch anyone using the swings. On it sprawled the girl in the gray hoodie, her attention focused on the tablet in her hand. This one was larger than the one she had used on the street, the touchscreen portion of a hybrid laptop. The keyboard section balanced across her lap. The hood was back, revealing a young face that bore sibling familiarity with the swinger. Even though the swinger looked far more European than Asian in coloring and bone structure, while the other was gold skinned and dark eyed...despite the incongruity of her short mop of brown streaked copper hair.

Suddenly the girl in black tights appeared in the space between swing-set and bench, almost at adult eye level. She tucked and rolled as she hit the ground, like a gymnast dismounting, coming upright and striking a finishing pose before turning on her toes and bowing dramatically to her audience.

"You are an hour late," bench girl said without looking up from her tablet. Knowing what was likely coming, swing set girl began to slow down.

"Awwww, did widdle Hopey Dopey wowwy about meeee?" the black haired girl cooed in a deliberately annoying 'baby' voice. Her hand shot out, intending to muss the already mussed cap of red hair before her. The girl named Hope was quicker, yanking her hood over her head for protection from that annoying action.

"Cut it out. We didn't have any communication from you. You promised Mamma and Poppa to follow the plan, didn't you?"

"Whatever, miss code monkey. We aren't playing chess. We're poking a hornet's nest. That takes mad skills and iced resolve. Besides," she bent and held up the plastic bag she'd brought into reality with her. "I got food! Real, gross, absolutely junky fast food! Not a vitamin in the bunch! Salt, sugar, fat, and caffeine. The four basic food groups!"

"Well, you have the 'mad' part down cold, Faith," Hope snarked, keeping her eyes down. She wasn't about to betray that her mouth watered at the idea of fun food.

"How can you say that about your beloved oldest sister?" Faith demanded. The hood tilted up, only Hope's sharp chin visible.

"Easy. You are mad. Nuts. Crackers. Possessor of the silly star chromosome. Looney. Want me to go on?"

Faith's jaw tightened. "Get up here and say that, shorty! I've got a burrito I can-!" A finger touched Faith's lips, stopping her. Doe brown eyes stared at her from out of a cloud of honey gold hair with a puppy dog beseeching.

"We really were getting worried, Faith." The voice was almost smokey.

"I was getting us food. You know we hardly ever get fast food, Charity."

"You still should have let us know something, Faith." Charity's tone brooked no excuses. "This isn't home. Like you said, you're poking a hornet's nest. We can't help you if you get stung and we don't know it." She tilted her head at the bench, raising an eyebrow.

"Oooooh, do I have to?" Faith groaned in a plaintive tone. The eyebrow rose higher. Faith pouted for a few more seconds before crumbling. "Thanks for the help, Hope."

Neither girl could see the pleased grin on Hope's face. She also managed to swallow the first dozen snarky remarks that came to mind; she could feel their baby sister's gaze on her (25 minutes wasn't that much of a 'baby', but Charity used it ruthlessly). "You're welcome."

Peace ensured for the moment, Charity sat on the grass in front of the bench and patted for Faith to sit with her. "You said something about food?"

"Yep!" Faith plopped next to her baby sister tailor fashion, opening the bag. "I have fruit punch for the nature girl," giving the box to Charity. "Ginger ale for the geek" she tossed the 20 oz bottle at Hope."And a liter of Pepsi for me!"

"That much sugar and caffeine isn't good for you," Charity murmured. Faith stuck out her tongue.

"Shush, you." She rummaged some more. "Okay, I have my four Burrito Diablo's." Faith placed her treats on the grass. "Here's three Super Taco's with the Works for Super Nerd," The foil box was snatched from her hand before she could think about giving it a toss, and Faith smiled to herself. She might have a role to play in their sisterly relations, but she still loved her kid sis's, and knew far more about them than she tried to let on. She handed the bag to Charity. "The stuff in the puke colored foil is some kinda vegetarian thingamawhatis. Enjoy, though I can't imagine how."

Charity opened her meal with little sniff. "Barbarians.", keeping her smile hidden as her replies were a crunch and a full-mouthed muffled grunt. The three girls ate and chattered at one another like any other group of pre teens would. Only someone with an experienced eye or paranoid mindset would have noticed that the two on the ground had divided their side of the bench between them and were keeping a very close eye on their approaches. Or that the one sitting had propped her smaller tablet on the bench so that the back-plane camera was aimed to the rear, and she was watching their backs through the slats in the bench on her larger tablet.

"So how did the recon go?" Charity asked finally.

Faith shrugged. "'Bout like Papa said it would."

"And yet you lowered your guard and almost became a Solomon lab rat," Hope said before taking another bite of taco.

"Yeah, well someone didn't tell me they kept water handy for their water witch to use in the office."

"You got cocky, Faith."

"Oooh yes, I'd _love_ some Pocky!"

"This isn't funny!" Hope snapped. "If I hadn't found that hole in, you would have been caught! Do you have any clue what they would have done to you?"

"Probably more clues than you do. I've played tag with the likes of the Solomonkeys lots more than either of you have." Faith's tone was flat.

"Do we have to do this every single day?" Charity asked in a tired voice. "What happened with the bugs, Faith?"

The dark haired girl wiped her mouth on a napkin. "Like I said, about like Papa said. The ones that most likely would be found didn't even turn on. The three that he expected to have the best chance did. I did a little micro jump into the crawlspace and put them all next to the utility core, then ran the fiber optic pick ups into the main office, the briefing room, and the boss's office. The baby laser's were clamped onto a wall stud near the pick up, so we should have good audio. I left the bad ones where they could be found, and made sure the guts of the good ones were where they probably wouldn't look."

"So that takes care of today?" Charity asked.

"It takes care of my part," Faith mumbled around her third burrito. "Ask the geek about the rest of it."

"Hope?"

"The three probes seem to be working correctly," the red headed girl said, tapping at her tablet screen. "The encrypted feed to the cloud is solid, so we'll have a record of what happens there. And we have incoming. Two trench coats and hats coming in from behind the bench."

"Lemme see." Faith's tone was no nonsense. Hope passed her tablet over while Charity began gathering up the debris of their impromptu picnic, stuffing it back in the bag. "Crap-weasels. They look like Solomonkeys to me. How the Hell did they find us?"

"Language, Faith," Charity said.

"I doubt they did," Hope said in a distracted tone. "Odds are they're here to watch STN-J, and got word from their bosses to check out any anomalies. Any half decent sensitive could feel you tearing holes in reality, Faith."

"So what's the play? We make a bigger anomaly? We run for it? We fight? You know they must have my description by now."

"I've got anything that has our DNA collected," Charity said in a calm voice. "I say we blink out of here and reappear in the alley we chose. Then blend in and get back to our room. Hope, would you lend Faith your hoodie? That way no one will see her."

"Nope. But here, try this," Hope said, pulling a small packet out of her pocket and tossing to Faith.

"A poncho, huh? Good enough." Faith tore the package open and pulled the thin plastic over herself. Hope has already reassembled her laptop and slid it into her backpack. The smaller tablet went back into her kangaroo pocket. Charity had rummaged in her handbag for a moment, then produced a pair of flip flops that she shoved into Faith's hands. The older girl wrinkled her nose at them, but obediently put them on. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"We all are."

The three girls stood, backs firmly to the two nondescript men approaching. They began to skip away, giggling and laughing like young girls do. The men started walking faster towards them, confirming that they were not just there by accident. The girls broke into a run, and between one step and the next vanished, a fairly loud crack of displaced air echoing around the playground. The two Solomon agents slowed, the shorter of the two extending a hand for a long moment before starting a slow turn. He had gone almost half a circle before he stopped, pushing his hand further out as if testing something, then nodding. The other muttered into his collar mic, and they began to move back towards the city again.


End file.
